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Description
He came upon a marble antechamber, completely void of life. Home to pillars and fine carpets filled the emptiness to a point but did little to render it welcoming. Wandering around the room he noticed three things; a painting, a statue and a grille blocking an archway. The first he disregarded, the second he noted mentally and the third he eyed warily, not wanting to know what was on the other side.
Dispersing the archway from his mind, he made his way to the statue to inspect it. A disturbing winged figure with holes instead of eyes and another in the center of his forehead gazed eerily toward him as he approached it. Looking down he noticed the tome that had brought him here in the first place.
He read the inscription and made another mental note to remember it. Having nothing better to do, he went to sit down in a corner and wait for what ever was supposed to come out of the other door. His eyes wandered during this time, taking in everything, the texture and gradients of the smooth marble, the detail and finesse of the carpets, the horrid expression of the stone angel. Eventually it didn’t even matter as his mind wandered through space and time, recalling memories of home. He waited for what seemed like forever in the empty, lifeless chamber.
Suddenly, he heard a noise and watched as a scrawny human casually walked out of the opposing door and awkwardly made his way into the chamber. Having sat behind him, Forshost stood up and walked slowly toward the pathetic excuse of a human and unstrapped his axe from his belt, taking the massive blade in one hand. Hearing his footsteps, the scrawny human turned around to come face to face with a stone faced giant.
“Shit…” the human stated in an exasperated way. He was dressed in baggy clothing that didn’t fit him made of bizarre materials Forshost had never seen before. They were indeed queer, but he paid them little heed. Looking down upon the miniscule human, almost literally half his size, his mask of indifference studied him closely.
The human, looking up at Forshost, realised he was completely out of his league if he had to fight this monster of a man, if he could even be considered a man. For some reason the human smirked suddenly as he made a revelation concerning the appearance of the behemoth. He resembled a giant, blue, ripped Michelin Tire Man, one with a massive axe and shield, but a Michelin Tire Man none the less. This made him grin stupidly.
To Forshost the human seemed confused about where he was, as if he wasn’t meant to be here. Forshost realised this instantly and decided to use it to his advantage. He also noted that the human had not read the book yet, so obviously he would not know what was going on in the first place to begin with.
“So,” he said casually, “you are the one I am supposed to obliterate.” The emotionless way he so openly stated such an atrocious comment made the human’s hair stand on the back of his neck, as if half believing he would do such a thing.
“Um… no not at all.” The human quickly replied stumbling over his words as he waved his hands back in forth as to add emphasis to his response. “You see your looking for Julius Something-or-other! He’s already dead though. I may have accidently stabbed him…” the last trailed off as he twiddled his thumbs.
“Oh, I see.” He smiled inwardly. “Well then, I’ll be needing your signature in that case.” Looking down and seeing that the human was still a bit confused he added, “It’s for liability reasons. I need conformation that he’s dead, and since I can’t bring back his head as proof, I’ll need your signature for confirmation of his death.” He then waved his hand in the direction of the Grimoire.
Before the human had a chance too read what the book said he quickly caught his attention, “You have to sign with your blood by the way.” The human seemed a bit confused so he just did as he was told and signed the page. Once he was done he looked up at the giant expectantly. Turning around, Forshost pointed toward the door he came from and motioned toward it as he made his way. The human quickly followed.
“You’re free to go. Thank you for your cooperation and you can be on your way.” Forshost said with an undertone of sarcasm. Obviously this had to be the stupidest human in all of Midgard. Either way, he had done what needed to be done, the human even looked relieved.
“So this’ll take me back home?” Forshost nodded in response, “Good. I didn’t even wanna be here in the first place.” He grumbled as he closed the door behind him. Forshost then turned around and walked toward the archway.
Waiting expectantly for something to happen, he was annoyed when the grille refused to move. He called out in rage, “I have completed your task Turiel! Now make way!” His deep voiced rumbled through the hall as it echoed of walls and came back to him. The spidery whisper of laughter drifted in, transported by a motionless wind.
Suddenly the grille slowly started to open and Forshost was almost reluctant to enter as an air of eeriness descended upon the antechamber. He shivered the feeling the way as a cold tingled down his spine. He then looked defiantly forward and took his first few steps toward his certain doom, but not before he cursed aloud as he realised the human from before had stolen his gold purse.

Description
He came upon a marble antechamber, completely void of life. Home to pillars and fine carpets filled the emptiness to a point but did little to render it welcoming. Wandering around the room he noticed three things; a painting, a statue and a grille blocking an archway. The first he disregarded, the second he noted mentally and the third he eyed warily, not wanting to know what was on the other side.
Dispersing the archway from his mind, he made his way to the statue to inspect it. A disturbing winged figure with holes instead of eyes and another in the center of his forehead gazed eerily toward him as he approached it. Looking down he noticed the tome that had brought him here in the first place.
He read the inscription and made another mental note to remember it. Having nothing better to do, he went to sit down in a corner and wait for what ever was supposed to come out of the other door. His eyes wandered during this time, taking in everything, the texture and gradients of the smooth marble, the detail and finesse of the carpets, the horrid expression of the stone angel. Eventually it didn’t even matter as his mind wandered through space and time, recalling memories of home. He waited for what seemed like forever in the empty, lifeless chamber.
Suddenly, he heard a noise and watched as a scrawny human casually walked out of the opposing door and awkwardly made his way into the chamber. Having sat behind him, Forshost stood up and walked slowly toward the pathetic excuse of a human and unstrapped his axe from his belt, taking the massive blade in one hand. Hearing his footsteps, the scrawny human turned around to come face to face with a stone faced giant.
“Shit…” the human stated in an exasperated way. He was dressed in baggy clothing that didn’t fit him made of bizarre materials Forshost had never seen before. They were indeed queer, but he paid them little heed. Looking down upon the miniscule human, almost literally half his size, his mask of indifference studied him closely.
The human, looking up at Forshost, realised he was completely out of his league if he had to fight this monster of a man, if he could even be considered a man. For some reason the human smirked suddenly as he made a revelation concerning the appearance of the behemoth. He resembled a giant, blue, ripped Michelin Tire Man, one with a massive axe and shield, but a Michelin Tire Man none the less. This made him grin stupidly.
To Forshost the human seemed confused about where he was, as if he wasn’t meant to be here. Forshost realised this instantly and decided to use it to his advantage. He also noted that the human had not read the book yet, so obviously he would not know what was going on in the first place to begin with.
“So,” he said casually, “you are the one I am supposed to obliterate.” The emotionless way he so openly stated such an atrocious comment made the human’s hair stand on the back of his neck, as if half believing he would do such a thing.
“Um… no not at all.” The human quickly replied stumbling over his words as he waved his hands back in forth as to add emphasis to his response. “You see your looking for Julius Something-or-other! He’s already dead though. I may have accidently stabbed him…” the last trailed off as he twiddled his thumbs.
“Oh, I see.” He smiled inwardly. “Well then, I’ll be needing your signature in that case.” Looking down and seeing that the human was still a bit confused he added, “It’s for liability reasons. I need conformation that he’s dead, and since I can’t bring back his head as proof, I’ll need your signature for confirmation of his death.” He then waved his hand in the direction of the Grimoire.
Before the human had a chance too read what the book said he quickly caught his attention, “You have to sign with your blood by the way.” The human seemed a bit confused so he just did as he was told and signed the page. Once he was done he looked up at the giant expectantly. Turning around, Forshost pointed toward the door he came from and motioned toward it as he made his way. The human quickly followed.
“You’re free to go. Thank you for your cooperation and you can be on your way.” Forshost said with an undertone of sarcasm. Obviously this had to be the stupidest human in all of Midgard. Either way, he had done what needed to be done, the human even looked relieved.
“So this’ll take me back home?” Forshost nodded in response, “Good. I didn’t even wanna be here in the first place.” He grumbled as he closed the door behind him. Forshost then turned around and walked toward the archway.
Waiting expectantly for something to happen, he was annoyed when the grille refused to move. He called out in rage, “I have completed your task Turiel! Now make way!” His deep voiced rumbled through the hall as it echoed of walls and came back to him. The spidery whisper of laughter drifted in, transported by a motionless wind.
Suddenly the grille slowly started to open and Forshost was almost reluctant to enter as an air of eeriness descended upon the antechamber. He shivered the feeling the way as a cold tingled down his spine. He then looked defiantly forward and took his first few steps toward his certain doom, but not before he cursed aloud as he realised the human from before had stolen his gold purse.